Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(15)
She stepped lightly toward the back stairway, but a plank in the floor squeaked. She paused and held her breath, her stomach growling and reminding her that even with the feasting and new food supplies, she hadn’t eaten enough to ease the ache in her stomach.
“And where have you been, young lady?” Ebenezer spoke from the doorway that led into the dining room.
Defeat crashed down on Angelique. She’d hoped with the coming of the ships, she’d regain some freedom that came with the busyness of summer.
Her stepfather’s bulky frame filled the doorway, and the light from the dining room gleamed off the round bald spot at the top of his head. A ring of black hair surrounded the shining skin of his head, reminding her of the tonsure of the Jesuit priests. His plain gray shirt hung loosely over his fleshy middle, almost like a priestly robe.
“Where have you been?” he repeated louder. “And why are you sneaking in so late?”
“I’m sorry.” She hung her head as he would expect. “With all the excitement of the day I lost track of the time.”
“You didn’t have permission to go anywhere.”
“I didn’t think you’d mind today.”
Ebenezer stepped into the kitchen. “Of course I mind.” His tone took on the seething angry quality that didn’t bode well. “As long as God’s given you into my charge, I expect you to obey me and to abide the Ten Commandments.”
“I do my best—”
“Not when you steal food right off this very table. Food I forbade you to eat.” He brought his hand down as if to slam it against the plank worktable that Betty used for preparing the meals for the guests. But instead of slamming the wood, he stopped himself and thumped it gently with his palm.
“Steal?” She glanced at the table, empty except for several greasy pans. “I haven’t stolen anything—”
“Don’t talk to me that way, young lady.” His tone turned low and menacing. “Betty told me she left the rest of the bread here, but that when she came back into the kitchen, it was gone.”
Angelique thought back to her encounter with Betty earlier in the day and the offer of the bread. She knew Betty had eaten it, but she didn’t want Betty to get into trouble. “Perhaps one of the guests took it?”
“Stop lying to me!” The words burst out loud and harsh before he caught himself, cleared his throat, and then spoke again in a too-calm voice. “You’re only sinning further by lying to me.”
“I’m sorry.” She quelled her angry retort. She knew it would do no good to argue with him.
“After all this time I’d expected more character growth within you. But instead you are still very much like your sinful mother.”
Angelique shook her head. She didn’t want to struggle with the longings of her flesh like her mother had, but what if she did have the same wayward tendencies?
Ebenezer crossed the dark room toward her. “Come with me. Apparently you’re in need of more discipline.” He gripped her forcefully, giving her little choice but to allow him to propel her toward the narrow stairwell.
As he started up the steps, his fingers tightened. With each step they ascended, his breathing grew louder.
When they reached the second floor, a sliver of light met them. Betty stood at the crack in their bedroom door in a lacy nightgown that hung embarrassingly low. Ebenezer stalked past without a glance, dragging Angelique along behind him until they reached the ladder that led to the attic.
“Go to your room.” He shoved her away from him toward the ladder. “And you will stay there all day tomorrow, praying and repenting for your sins.”
Angelique started up the rungs and couldn’t resist glancing through the shadows to where Betty stood. A flicker of remorse crossed the woman’s face, but then she quickly closed the bedroom door without saying a word to defend Angelique.
Angelique scrambled the rest of the way up the ladder and crawled into her room, shutting the trapdoor behind her, wishing it were as easy to shut out the sting of Betty’s silence.
Though she’d encouraged Betty to eat the food and didn’t begrudge her the extra, she wished Betty would have spoken up for her. At the very least, the woman could have deferred the blame on to one of the guests.
The ladder scraped against the wall as Ebenezer pulled it away, trapping her in the cold, windowless room as he’d done many times before.
She sat back on her heels, her head brushing against the low roof rafter. The dark reaches of the attic were crowded with empty crates and a few worthless trinkets left from last fall that Ebenezer would likely sell to the Indians.
What had her mother ever seen in Ebenezer? After all the men her mother had lived with after the death of her father, why had she finally chosen to marry Ebenezer?
That was the question that haunted Angelique during these confrontations. And she didn’t want to delve too deeply into the painful memories of the past for fear that blame might rest upon her.
After all, she’d been the one—not Therese—to cry about missing Michilimackinac, to complain about wanting a real family, and to blame their mother for all that had happened to destroy the happy home they’d once had.
Angelique didn’t want to think that perhaps her mother had married Ebenezer for her, so that she could return to the only place where she’d ever known happiness, however brief it had been. The thought was too painful to consider.